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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24257704">Foreshadowing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones'>JantoJones</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Further Brief Briefings [52]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:14:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24257704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Further Brief Briefings [52]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/788124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Foreshadowing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The only sounds which could be heard in the shared office of Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin was the clickety-clack of a typewriter, and the occasional scratch of a pen.  Both men were engrossed in the paperwork which came as part and parcel of ranking second and third in the U.N.C.L.E.’s New York HQ.   It was rare for them to get the time to simply work through their files, so they had grabbed the opportunity with both hands.  Even Napoleon, who would usually be trying to offload his work on his partner, was doing his fair share.</p><p>After a few hours of silence, apart from the occasional question for clarification, their peace was disturbed by the arrival of April Dancer.  Both Napoleon and Illya were momentarily stunned by the way she was dressed.  April was wearing a floor length, figure-hugging, black velvet gown, and her auburn hair had been flawlessly coiffured.  In one hand was a black satin purse, and in the other was an U.N.C.L.E. file.</p><p>“You’re somewhat over-dressed for the office,” Napoleon commented. “Not that I’m complaining.”</p><p>April smiled.</p><p>“I’m attending charity gala as Mrs Waverly’s bodyguard,” she explained, as she handed the file to Napoleon. “And this is my report from our last assignment.”</p><p>Solo took the file and complemented her on her choice of gown.</p><p>“Thank you,” she replied. “What do you think, Illya?”</p><p>The Russian looked her up and down, appraising the outfit fully.</p><p>“There is something missing,” he answered.</p><p>“Oh?” said April, a little crestfallen.  She had thought she looked quite good.</p><p>“Do not get me wrong,” Illya told her hurriedly. “You look stunning, as always.  The ensemble just needs something to finish it off.”</p><p>A loud snort of laughter came from Napoleon’s side of the room, causing the other two agents to turn to him.</p><p>“I don’t wish to offend, Tovarisch,” the American stated. “But what do you know about fashion or style?”</p><p>As if to prove his own credentials in that field, Napoleon adjusted his tie and shot his cuffs.  Ignoring Napoleon’s dig, Illya asked April to wait for a few minutes, before running out of the office.  Solo and Dancer shrugged to one another before waiting for Kuryakin’s return.  He reappeared only five minutes later, carry some orange fabric in his hands.</p><p>Only, it wasn’t truly orange.  The colour perfectly matched that of April’s hair, and it turned out to be a pair of opera gloves.  Illya helped April to put them on, before standing back to take in the full effect.  A wide grin appeared on his face and he nodded; content.  April asked Napoleon for his opinion.</p><p>Solo could only smile in response, which from him was the most genuine of compliments.  He had to admit that Illya had been absolutely right and that the gloves enhanced her beauty even more.  He would never have thought that matching an accessory to hair colour would work, but it did.  April was overjoyed at the reaction from him.  While she knew Napoleon complimented every woman, it was always nice to receive one.</p><p>“You’re so sweet, Napoleon,” she gushed, and kissed him on the cheek.</p><p>“And as for you, Illya,” she said, also kissing his cheek. “I think you have a career in fashion ahead of you.”</p><p>The Russian bobbed his head shyly.  Napoleon, on the other hand, snorted another laugh. “I’m sure the world is waiting with bated breath for the Kuryakin Collection.”</p>
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